Mothering Many

I’ve had a couple of things happen in my mothering journey lately that I want to talk about, and although they seem unrelated, my response to them is the same: Kids are kids. Like a realtor hawking “location, location, location”, I want to chant “let them be, let them be, let them be”.

We began the yearly round of dentist visits last month, and the dentist put sealants on the baby teeth my kids had. Now, I have nothing against sealants per se, the idea is sound. But then the kids were told no gum or sticky candy. Whoa and back up. Is that a dental decision or a parenting decision? Who is gum made for? And what if I prefer for my children to have starburst over a jawbreaker? In fact, the receptionist said “you’d be better off eating chocolate”. I guess I’m partly aggravated because it was not explained to me BEFORE the sealants were put on that I would need to monitor everything my kids ate forever. Sigh. Am I now a bad parent because I don’t see candy as inherently evil? Whatever. Here, you want some gum? You can brush your teeth later, but for now… enjoy!

The other thing had to do with cheerleading. (Oh, I need to post some pictures and tell you about competition so remind me, but that’s not gonna happen in this post.) I watched the competition yesterday, and while it was fun, it reminded me a lot of the beauty pageants. I saw little girls, 6 and 7 years old in full makeup. That’s just….wrong. A little lip gloss to make them feel like a princess on their special day is one thing, but these babies had on as much makeup as I did. Wrong, I say! I also saw a lot of those hair pieces with the corkscrew curls. Those did look awful cute bouncing around on the back of the girls’ heads, I must say, but I worry if it send the message to them that their own hair isn’t pretty enough, or if they see it as just a fun thing to do, like playing dress-up.

You want your kids to grow up, ya know? But not so quick. Not before it’s time.

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Greetings from Cass’s vomi-poopi-torium. Oh My Word! Do you even know how much of a mess 8 sick people make? If I had known when I accepted dh’s proposal that one day we would have 7 little vomiters in the house, I might have thought a bit longer before we put on those wedding bands. HA!

Ok, all kidding aside, we did have a 24 hour bug sweep through here, and the good news is it was so fast acting that it only took 36 hours to be finished with us all, as opposed to the three days a 24 bug usually takes. Today, we are healthy, again, but the house reeks of sickness, and so we are washing laundry and airing things out. The really good news is that dh did not get sick at all, so he was able to hold the household together when I got taken out.

The mustard and mayonnaise have nothing to do with anything, I just wanted to say it with catch up, which is what I am trying to do. Again. Or is that still? Anybody want a sandwich?

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You know, I talk to my kid through the course of the day. There here, I’m here and the words, they just kinda flow naturally between us: mom can I, no, mom can I, no. You know how it is, I’m sure. I sometimes think my children intentionally misunderstand me, mostly about the no part, and then sometimes I wonder how any of us understand each other at all ever. I was reminded of this when I looked up the word elliptical last night. Now if you are a guy, you probably thought immediately of an exercise machine. And also, you are probably wondering how the heck you got here, and frankly, so am I, but ok, here you are, hello and welcome.

But! what if you are a reader? Elliptical also means pertaining to or having the form of an ellipse (shaped like an egg) and expressed with extreme or excessive economy; relieved of irrelevant matter (to the point) and tending to be ambiguous, cryptic, or obscure (confusing). Oh, and if you are a writer, it means those period things… you know…the ones we use to indicate we are thinking…or shifting our view point a bit…or are just plain crazy.

Suddenly, I have a new respect for Clinton. Maybe he really didn’t know what is is.

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So, he had his tonsils out. And also his adenoids. And I was assured that he would be most mopey and tearful for at least a few days. It would be quiter hear, just for a bit. NOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! Except for thrashing his way out of the anesthesia, the boy has been fine. In fact, he has been so fine that I had to threaten instant annihilation to get him to stop running through the house this morning.

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Around here, we love some mashed potatoes. We typically serve them with gravy, but the truly remarkable thing about my mashed potatoes is that they are also wonderful without gravy. I learned to make them from my mother, who makes the best ones ever, but mine are pretty darn good, too. Here’s how you do it for 10, you’ll have to adjust the recipe for your crew.

Peel (or scrub and don’t peel) and dice 5 pounds of potatoes, and boil them until they are fork tender. Drain them and put them in a bowl. Add an entire stick of butter. An entire stick. No skimping! Beat until creamed, adding just enough milk to get the consistency you like. Add salt and pepper to taste. You can also use margarine like my mom does, but I think butter’s better so thats what I use. But I never pass her potatoes up, either.

Now, I like my potatoes lump free, and that takes some mixing. In fact, I burn up one of those $10 mixers in about a year, and we only have the potatoes about once a month, because I am always afraid I am going to burn up my mixer. My grandmother, however, had an ancient Kitchen Aid stand mixer, and I have long considered getting a stand mixer for myself, because hers has lasted so long. Decades, people. Really. So when I saw these new Eclectrics® Mixer, I wanted to take a closer look, because I like the longevity of the stand mixers. And also, the fact that I can get the Hamilton Beach® Mixer in blue to match my kitchen is a big plus. I like matching.
And since I have no cabinet space left and the mixer would be on the counter all the time, it’s even more important, see?

The other biggies: it says on the site that the Hamilton Beach® Stand Mixer can make 4 pounds of bread or 9 dozen cookies at once. FINALLY, someone understands the quantity of food I need to be able to produce at one time. And it has a 3 year warranty, so apparently they also understand that I get tired of replacing appliances that wear out and burn out under what is normal household use for me.

And here’s the badge I am required to place here, so you can see that I was offered compensation to tell you this recipe and also about how I burn up mixers. It’s still a good recipe and the mixer thing is still true.

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Well, since I posted last Friday, I have been alternately running and resting. More can be found about that at my all about me blog. And I’ve been doing a bit of blog thinking. I’ve split this blog a bit, and you can now read about home schooling and cooking on other blogs. I will continue to post a few things here for awhile that belong other places, but the transition has begun. And I guess here is as good a place to ask as any: Would you rather visit one blog for all the household stuff, momming, schooling and cooking, or does separate work for you? I’m building blogs based on my own reading preferences, which may or not match the majority opinion.

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So, we were watching Star Trek TNG tonight, and Stuntman was trying to figure out the significance of the uniform colors. He got the blue for medical, and then asked about the red and green. Green? Of course, having had my eyes dilated and scanned within a millimeter of my photo receptors life, I am only going on memory, because I can’t see colors so well just now, but I am pretty sure there are no green Star Trek uniforms. Right?

Good thing I happen to know this particular son is “color deficient”, or I’d be adjusting the home theater lighting. Of course, the fact that several of his sibs were snickering at him does help to convince me that my memory is correct. I’m pretty sure it was yellow.

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Man, it seems like I have done laundry all day long all week long, and I guess that’s because I have. Sigh. I’m still not caught up. Of course, I am not sure I ever will be caught up with laundry, because in addition to all the clothes 9 people generate, we have the diapers, the napkins and tablecloths, the towels, and all that other Stuff That Must Be Washed. The current STMBW fills two laundry bags, one hamper and one basket. There is also a load in each machine and I. am sick. of laundry. Just sayin’

One thing I am really liking though, is the ALL detergent I am using. Light, fresh, and just a dab will do you! I use the Fresh Rain HE myself. I can’t always find it, so when I do I stock up. Second choice= Gain. And that’s more about laundry than I wish I knew right now. Excuse me, I need to switch loads.

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Please tell me that if I get a big ol’ plasma tv that I want for Christmas, and put it high on the wall on one of those fancy plasma mounts where the children cannot reach it AND I keep the remote on my desk that I will not have to ask every day, several times per day “how loud is that tv?”. Whenever I start getting edgy, I know to ask , and invariably it is set at 20, when all the children know it’s supposed to be at 10. And then they turn it down, I stop vibrating, and we can all continue on with our day.

And while I am kvetching about noise, what’s with turning on the kitchen radio and then walking out of the kitchen? Into the livingroom? And plopping down in front of the too-loud television? Hell-Oh? Ding, ding, ding. This is the captain mother speaking: turn it down and turn it off.

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Surgery went well, Batman is practically bouncing around the house, and we’ve both had a nap. More or less interrupted. I was told that today would be a honeymoon of sorts, but that tomorrow would be pretty rough. Usually when my kids get whiny I either send them to bed or tell the to find a job to do, but I guess I will have to dust off my compassion for the next few days. Got to bed might work out ok in conjunction with the Tylenol 3, but I imagine a job search is out of the question. At least for him — – I’m liable to have to do a few extras, though.

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